


Heroes and Villains:  Of Hope and Hideaways

by irishlullaby13



Series: Heroes and Villains [18]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Captain and the Siren, F/M, Goddess Abbie, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-23 19:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11409012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: A romantic liaison.  A secret revealed.  And a big change.





	1. Chapter 1

Not too far from Sleepy Hollow, just across the Tappan Zee Bridge, was the town of Nyack. Nestled close to the highway--if one were willing to overlook the vast amount construction that the illustrious state of New York favoured bestowing upon the already over crowded and confusing highway system--one could easily locate a hotel by the name of The Time. It was a modern minimalist looking building and practically screamed overpriced hipster bar.

Actually that was Abbie's initial reaction to the place. It looked more like an office building than a hotel. And the price per night was nearly a third of her pay check. Which was why she was glad The Captain had picked up the bill.

Since she and the Captain had made amends--again--at the masquerade, they had been making every effort to keep their _thing_ under wraps. She tried to only go to the manor when she knew he would be alone. Or they would book a room in The City or any place that wasn't Sleepy Hollow and spend the night sinning in as many positions as possible. 

They still had “fights” at least once a week because the Apocalypse was still a thing. But the fighting between her and the Captain was mostly to distract the citizens from whatever demon, creature, entity of spiritual cleansing had descended upon Sleepy Hollow.

Because if there was one thing the people of Sleepy Hollow liked better than a good fight, it was a sexually charged fight between two people that acted like they hated each other. Fucking weirdos. It's probably why it was chosen as the centre of the Apocalypse, Abbie mused as she approached the desk clerk. 

She had gone all out just in case this was the kind of place that had a dress code. The lilac dress she wore hugged all of her curves and brought the girls to the forefront of anyone's attention. “Hi… Liz,” she greeted, her voice low and sexy. “I'm here to see Captain Ichabod Crane. Has he checked in yet?” 

Liz was a matronly woman, but she blushed and looked away for a second before addressing Abbie. “Oh my, you certainly are beautiful…” she twittered. “Let me check and see…” She tapped a few keys. “And what is your name, Miss?”

“It should be noted as Dr. Abigail Adams,” Abbie provided. “He should be expecting me.”

Liz blushed softly. “Oh, yes… Captain Crane is already checked in. Your key…” she slid a daintily enveloped key card across the desk. “And he left a note to tell you to meet him in the lounge.”

Abbie gave Liz a flirtatious smile. “And where can I find the lounge?”

The woman looked away again and made a small excited but flustered sound. “I… I'll have Pierre escort you, my lady. I'd do it but… policy…” Liz called for Pierre, a young and wiry gentleman walked over. “Pierre could you escort Dr Adams to the lounge to meet with Captain Crane?”

Pierre looked her over and his brows arched. “Certainly.” He offered his arm and Abbie slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

She was escorted to a dimly lit space with a bar, and several leather couches and chairs. In the corner, staring pensively out of the window was The Captain. He was leaned back in his seat, an ankle on his knee, lightly worrying his thumbnail with his teeth.

He was handsome as ever in a modern five-piece suit, sans jacket which was lain over the arm of his seat. It hadn't been long that he had taken to wearing such suits--after she had accidentally set his other clothes on fire during a… scuffle. 

Okay, so they had a camping excursion and she had accidentally thrown them in the camp fire.

She noticed he had trimmed and styled his hair, trimmed his beard… he looked every bit the modern gentleman. Abbie couldn't wait to peel away each layer and get her fingers on his skin.

“Captain Crane,” Pierre piped as they approached him. “Dr. Adams to see you…”

Ichabod looked their way then bolted to his feet when his eyes fell to her. He held out a hand. “Dr. Adams…” he murmured when Abbie placed her hand in his. He bowed over her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

Abbie smiled and batted her lashes at Pierre. “Thank you Pierre.”

The young man smiled as if struck drunk. “My pleasure, my lady,” he said softly then hurried away.

“If you don't mind my boldness, Doctor, I have made us reservations at the grill,” Ichabod purred, his eyes never once straying from her.

“I don't mind at all,” Abbie said. “I am feeling a little hungry…” Her eyes roamed over the Captain. He was dressed in all black, all the way down to his high shine loafers. The only exceptions were his tie and the little cloth peeking out of the pocket of his silk waistcoat--both the same shade of lilac as her dress. “And maybe a bit thirsty too.”

Ichabod smirked wickedly and escorted her to the grill. Though, to call it a grill was an understatement. It wasn’t so much a grill as a fancy restaurant. The type of fancy that had Abbie suddenly very aware of her surroundings. It was the sort of place that one took their partner to when one of two things were happening: they were breaking up or they were getting proposed to.

She knew without a doubt the Captain wasn’t breaking up with her. Mostly because they weren’t even actually dating. They were more or less monogamously banging. So that only left one other option… he was proposing. 

Again.

And if he was proposing again, that meant he finally discovered her actual identity. When Ichabod sat down across from her, he frowned slightly. “Is something amiss?”

“You’re proposing again,” she said, her voice wavering.

Before he could respond, the server wandered over to give them menus. The young girl almost instantly beamed a smile at Abbie. “Is there anything I can get for you, my lady?”

Abbie cast a glance in Ichabod’s direction. “He’s the one paying the bill, sweetie, why don’t you ask him instead.” 

Ichabod was smirking adorably even though the server startled and only then seemed to realize he was sitting there. “Could you bring the lady a glass of ice water and a half carafe of your finest merlot…” he peered at the server’s name tag. “Miss Stephanie. I shall require a glass of the Remy VSOP, neat, please.”

“Of course,” Stephanie said softly with a small curtsey toward Abbie.

Once Stephanie had hurried away, Ichabod chuckled. “You know precisely what wearing that colour does and yet you do not have mercy upon the mere mortals,” he commented.

Abbie grinned widely. “To be completely fair, there’s not that many colours I can wear that doesn’t affect people. Besides… I wanted to look nice for my babe and I look damn good in lilac.”

His eyes drifted down to her chest and back up to her eyes. For a moment the look on his face said he wanted to add that she looked even better in nothing or something even less family friendly. Instead he shook his head. “I’m not proposing.”

Abbe narrowed her eyes. “That sounds exactly like what someone would say if they wanted me to think they wasn’t proposing.” She opened her menu and started to immediately search for the cheapest thing on the menu. “Huh… $10 for gluten free organic strawberries. That better be some damn primo whipped cream they are served with…”

Stephanie returned with their drinks, carefully pouring Abbie a glass of the merlot from the carafe. The poor girl’s hands were shaking so Abbie reached out and touched them. “You’re doing fine, Sweetie. No need to be nervous.” Almost instantly Stephanie’s hands stopped trembling.

“Thank you,” Stephanie whispered with a small curtsey. She shook her head to clear it and rested the carafe on the table. “Are you ready to order?”

Abbie worried her bottom lip. She looked up when she felt Ichabod’s hand touch her wrist. He didn’t have to use words to tell her she could order whatever she wanted, he said it with his eyes. She gave him a small smile. “I want the… Cabbage Hill Farm Berkshire Double Cut Pork Chop and the kale and barley salad, please.”

Stephanie smiled brightly. “Excellent choice, my lady,” she breathed. She seemed to remember Ichabod again and looked toward him. “And you sir?”

Ichabod gave Stephanie a polite smile. “I shall partake in the Romanian Skirt Steak and the classic caesar salad, please, Miss Stephanie.”

A soft blush touched Stephanie’s cheeks and she nodded and hurried away to put in the order.

Abbie smirked. “Well, Mister Kettle, you were scolding me about knowing the effect I had on people… but forgot you also have a similar issue.”

His eyes twinkled merrily. “But I do not make a habit of just welding it willy nilly as you so oft do.”

Abbie covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Willy nilly…”

“I neither intend to propose to you this evening, nor ask to seek other partners, my dear Siren,” Ichabod said softly. “Earlier this year Miss Carol and Miss Latisha spent their anniversary here and suggested it as a location to visit if finances were not an issue. And since it was my turn to select accommodations…”

“Well, I will admit this is a step up from the Days Inn,” Abbie teased, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s almost as nice as the hotel in Hawaii.”

Ichabod arched a brow. “So you’re admitting, finally, that Hawaii happened?”

“And Sydney,” she added. “Mostly because, despite deleting the evidence, the Cloud doesn’t forget and loads said evidence to your new phone when you sync. I’m just glad I deleted them again before Jenny’s nosy ass started going through my phone.”

Ichabod shifted in his seat. Hawaii had been a major source of contention between the two of them since it happened. Mostly because of Ichabod’s eidetic memory finally kicking in and recovering from the alcohol later in the day after it happened and she had kept denying anything happened even though she knew damn well it had.

“So this is just you being your normal extra self?” Abbie asked.

“That and I wished to literally wine and dine my _bae_ \--” Abbie snorted at that and giggled. “--before making you whinge as I dine between your thighs.”

Abbie nearly choked on her wine. “Ichabod!” she hissed. They were in a very public place, people might have heard. However when Abbie looked around, the other patrons were too busy with their own conversations. Ichabod smirked and she shook her head. “You're so bad…”

She shifted in her own seat. Damn. Not even half an hour and he already had her ready to retreat to the room. Ichabod gave a small, affronted huff.

“I recall a time in which you considered me wicked and even evil…”

A small smile pulled across Abbie's lips. “Well… we have all weekend for you to prove yourself…”

“Challenge accepted, my dearest,” Ichabod replied, his eyes turning a stormy blue that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. He raised his tumbler in salute and finally took a sip from his drink.

Abbie took a deep breath and sighed with relief. “You know, sometimes I think about the end of the Apocalypse,” she said softly. “If I--we--manage to win… if we survive… what will happen to us? As in you and me.”

“We can finally be honest about our feelings,” Ichabod said quietly. He set down his glass and took her hand in both of his. “Without ramifications or danger that the wrong person or entity will find out and try to use it against us.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. 

“That would be nice,” Abbie said softly. 

Ichabod was about to respond when Stephanie reappeared baring their salads.

Abbie focused solely on her salad, trying to avoid further conversation until she could think of a new topic. It was strange being on an actual date with the Captain. 

Sure they sometimes had nights she stayed at the manor. They would prepare a meal together and, once they had eaten, they would spend the rest of the night in the bedroom sinning.

But this was an actual _date_. They had both dressed up and met for a meal at a nice restaurant. Finally, the Captain broke the silence.

“Was your work day enjoyable, Abigail?” he asked softly.

Abbie felt her heart leap into her throat and she met his eyes. “Abigail?” she asked tonelessly.

“That _is_ the name you give me, is it not?” Ichabod asked, arching a brow. “Referring to you as _Doctor_ seemed a bit formal for the occasion.”

“It is,” she murmured, finishing off her first glass of wine. Before she could pour herself another, Ichabod had picked up her glass and the carafe to refill her glass. “What about later? Will it still be _Abigail_ when you've got me pinned down on the bed?”

Ichabod slowly sipped his drink, eyes glittering mischievously. “This weekend is all about you, my dear. I shall call you whatever you like while buried inside of you.”

Abbie shivered and couldn't keep a smile from crossing her lips. “Abigail it is… or Abbie.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait… what's the deal? You never want to call me Abigail or Abbie… And why is this weekend all about me? What are you up to, Captain?”

“Because you deserve it during this small respite between tribulations,” Ichabod said. “So, I ask again… was your work day enjoyable?”

She scowled gently. “Yeah… it was pretty quiet actually. Mostly finishing up reports.” she tilted her head. “You're up to something.”

Ichabod shook his head gently. “I assure you, I am up to nothing. I simply wish to make you feel as treasured as you deserve.”

Abbie glowered at him incredulously for a moment and was two seconds away from saying “sure Jan” when their food arrived.

Any speculations she may have been forming in her head about what he was up to were wiped away when Ichabod scowled at his plate. He looked at Stephanie with a withering look. “Surely this isn't _all_ of it?”

The server smiled nervously until Abbie touched her wrist. “Tell the chef they did a fine job, Stephanie. It's beautiful.”

Stephanie beamed happily. “Of course, my lady. Thank you so much…”

Once Stephanie scampered away, Abbie couldn't help but laugh. “See… this is why I insisted we get supplies and cook when we were doing all that traveling.”

“I thought perhaps you were joking or, at best, over dramatizing…” Ichabod huffed. “Skirt steak, indeed! Two bites worth of meat with a dollop of potatoes. This is prepost--”

“Ichabod,” Abbie said, dropping her tone to a low and sensual one. His face instantly relaxed and he focused on her face. “We don't want to eat much anyway, remember? Not for what we'll be doing after dinner, right?”

He blinked and shook his head to clear it. “You're correct,” he said. “But for the fee changed, one would expect the meal to be more substantial. I could eat three of these and still be wanting.”

“Places like this, they're going more for the aesthetic. You've got edible art,” Abbie explained.

Ichabod fidgeted in his seat but sighed. “Aesthetic…” he scoffed “...more like highway robbery.”

Abbie laughed gently. “Let's eat so we can get out of here.”

  
#  


“You got some kind of fancy honour from Yale or Harvard.”

Ichabod shook his head. “I did not,” he said simply, his hands clasped behind his back as they awaited the elevator. He straightened the collar of his coat and smoothed down his lapels.

Abbie had spent the last fifteen minutes, since they had finished their meal, trying to guess what he was up to. So far she had been completely off base. Though he was grateful she hadn't thought to state the obvious…

He had discovered her true identity.

It had happened quite by accident. He had accompanied Melody to “family day” at school, because her mother's were both working. And he had seen the Siren’s lovely--albeit rounder and smug--face staring at him from one of the trophy cases, touting her achievement of winning a regional chess tournament.

_Grace A. Mills, Ms. Perry 6th Grade, 1st Place_ , read the line underneath the framed newspaper photograph.

Upon the trophy was engraved _Grace Abigail Mills Regional Chess Tournament Champion_.

He was surprised to see that his Siren had not always been so petite. Short, yes. But she was much more… robust in her youth. She held her trophy proudly in the photograph, showing off a mouth full of braces.

When he had asked one of the older instructors they had beamed proudly. “ _Oh, Abbie Mills? I heard she works for the FBI… pretty little thing and tough as nails. But I guess you gotta be to do her job… this wasn't long before her mom passed away. She sort of lost interest in chess after Lorie passed_.

It had only taken getting on the internet and a few clicks later he had learned all about her checkered past and her rise back to a upstanding member of society through the sheriff's department.

He had been holding the information close to his heart ever since. 

“You discovered you have some really cool or weird magical ability and you want to tell me.”

Ichabod physically stiffened. Abbie gasped and grabbed his arm as the elevator door opened. She pulled him into the elevator and grasped the lapels of his coat as the doors closed.

“Yes,” he stated quickly. 

Her dark eyes widened and she grinned as she pushed onto her toes and pulled his face closer to hers. “Well, what it is?” She asked.

Ichabod tugged her hips flush against him so she could feel his state. “I can make you come so hard and so often you beg for mercy.”

“What floor?” Abbie asked, pressing her lips softly against his. Ichabod hit the button then took full possession of her mouth, kissing her slowly as his fingers drew up her skirt then slipped into her panties.

“You're already wet for me, my dearest,” Ichabod murmured, pulling his lips from hers for a mere moment.

Abbie could only softly whimper and hang on to his coat as his fingers delicately teased and stroked her. She was pretty sure she would have came if the bell for elevator hadn't dinged.

They both clamored from the elevator. Ichabod swept her into his arms and carried her bridal style to the room door. Abbie reached into the inside pocket of his coat and retrieved his key to unlock it. He nudged the door open with his foot and carried her inside, then kicked the door closed behind them.

Abbie kicked off her shoes, only getting a quick glimpse of the foyer of the suit before Ichabod carried her to the bedroom and placed her feet on the mattress so she was standing on the bed. He quickly located the zip on her side and dragged it down slowly. His breath hitched as the dress sagged then slid down her body, leaving her in just her black, lacy, panties.

He stared at her in awe. How was he so fortunate to have the literal embodiment beauty, love, wisdom, life, and death as his lover? She could suck his very life force from his body if she wished but she chose to love him. 

Though she had yet to say the words, he knew she loved him. She was yet battling with many personal demons to say it. But when she was ready, he would be there to hear them.

“Shit,” Abbie gasped as his mouth busied itself with kissing the undersides of her breasts, stomach, and sides. It felt like her skin was on fire as he peeled away her panties.

His hands roamed over her body as his tongue whirled around each of her nipples in turn.

“God…” Abbie whispered. “I fucking hate you.” She stroked her fingers through his hair. “I hate how you make me feel. I… nnnngggghhhhh…” 

She yanked hard on his hair when he sucked deeply at one nipple, his fingers slipping between her thighs to tease the button of pleasure there. His free hand glided around to gently squeeze her ass.

Ichabod released her nipple with a soft smack of his lips and shook his head. “You don't hate it,” he murmured, then swooped in to claim the other nipple.

“You… mmm… you don--ahh… You don't… _Jesus_...”

Ichabod pulled back and smirked. He loved the wildness in his beloved’s eyes as she panted for breath.

“You don't know my li--ahh!”

Her back hit the mattress when he grabbed behind her knees and yanked them to his sides. She stared at the ceiling, blinking in surprise at the sudden change of scenery.

Ichabod gave her no time to regain her facilities before dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed. He threw his coat to the side and yanked off his waistcoat, shirt, tie, and under shirt in one quick movement then tossed them aside.

He licked his lips and pulled her to the edge of the bed to feast himself between her thighs. He grasped her hips to hold her in place as she began to twist and thrash. 

“Oh my God… Ichabod,” she whimpered. “ _So good_...” 

When he lifted his head to suck in a breath, she wriggled free and began scooting away. Ichabod lunged, caught her ankles, and dragged her back to the edge of the bed. “I'm not done yet,” he growled and went back to his task.

“But you never stop,” Abbie sobbed. “I don't want to come on your face.”

“Oh, but my precious Abigail,” Ichabod purred, then stroked his tongue through her folds before kissing her as he would her mouth. She swore and her hips twisted fruitlessly against his hold. “You taste so divine… I want drink my fill of your sweet ambrosia.”

She shuddered and clawed at his wrists. “Ichabod… please…” Her back bowed away from the mattress and then he could taste her on his tongue as she reach completion. Her hips bucked against his mouth as he drew out her orgasm, until at long last her body went limp.

Ichabod sat back on his heels and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest as she tried to capture her breath. “Apologies, my dearest,” Ichabod said. “It's been nearly two weeks and dinner was found wanting. I was hungry.”

He gave her his best innocent look when she lifted her head to glare at him. Her head back against the bed and she sighed ragged. “I can't…” she groaned. “What am I going to do with you, Ichabod Crane?”

Slowly Ichabod stood, making quick work of his trousers button and zip. “Attempt to conquer your personal record. What was it? Five times? I say we should go for lucky number seven.”

She pushed onto her elbows as he toed off his shoes. Her eyes grew large. “Are you trying to kill me,” she whimpered, her breath hitched as his trousers hit the floor and she licked her lips. “I could derail your plans right now if I wanted to.”

“Oh you just try and stop me,” he drawled, letting his boxers fall. He made quick work of his socks and met her eyes.

Abbie squeaked softly and turned over to scramble across the bed. She whirled around and pressed her back against the wooden headboard. A delicate finger went to Ichabod’s lips as he pursued her on all fours. 

“Ichabod, I don't want to have sex tonight,” she said, her eyes softening.

He stopped, hand reaching toward her. Ichabod swallowed hard and sucked in several deep breaths before easing away. “If that is what you desire,” he murmured.

Abbie leaned forward and moved her finger so she could press a kiss to his lips. She pulled back slightly and her eyes sparkled like stars in the pitch black sky. “God you're so gullible,” she teased, then wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer to kiss. “You really think I would go two weeks without seeing you… touching you… _fucking you_... And have such a nice night out… and not get you inside of me?”

Her fingers danced over his skin as she spoke.

“Wicked woman,” Ichabod growled, pulling her flush against him as he sat back on his heels. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, tasting her and letting her taste herself on his skin.

She gasped softly when he wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up against the headboard. “Tell me what you want, my dearest Abigail,” he murmured against her lips before recapturing them.

Abbie moaned softly and slid her fingers into his hair. She pulled him back enough to lick her lips and smile. “You,” she whispered. “Dammit… I want you. Why do I want you so much?”

Ichabod nuzzle her cheek. “I know why…” he reached between their bodies to align with her. She gasped and clawed at his shoulders as he sank inside of her. His brows arched as her walls fluttered around his shaft and she choked on her own breath. “Two.”

“You… ass,” she moaned.

“Say it, my Abigail,” he growled close to her ear. “Tell me why you want me… we both know the answer. I just want to hear you say it.”

Abbie shuddered. “Because you fuck me _so good_...”

His hips snapped forward roughly, making her whimper. “What else? What else is it, Abbie?

“Fuck!” she gasped to catch her breath. “‘Cause you try to rip me apart with your dick.”

Ichabod gripped the headboard for leverage and thrust deep inside of her. “Say it, Abigail…”

She keened and came again with a silent scream. She sagged against him and softly kissed his lips. “Because… I'm your goddess and I love being worshipped by my priest.”

There were no appropriate words for the lightness in his heart at that moment. So, instead, he softly whispered, “Three.”

Abbie grunted and smacked his arm weakly. “Incorrigible…”

Ichabod laughed lightly and whirled around so he could drop her onto the bed. His eyes roamed over her. He drank in her lust darkened eyes, her kiss swollen lips, her luscious breasts… the play of the muscles of her stomach… the soft curls at her apex, and where she was stretched around his cock. “Beautiful…”

She arched and gyrated her hips. “God… you're so hard…” Abbie rocked against him until he grasped her hips and pulled her against him. She gripped the blankets beneath her. “Yes! Again…”

He glided in and out of her with ease, spurred on by her ecstatic cries. Ichabod wasn't entirely certain _he_ would be able to last. She felt blissfully hot around him, like a fire that wanted to consume him whole.

Her body went taut, back arching, thighs trembling as her legs curled around his waist. Ichabod leaned over her, kissed her soundly, as he pressed deep. The moment she shattered he knew that was the end. They found their release together and for a moment, he saw stars before they both collapsed with groans.

When he came back around, his head was resting on Abbie's chest and her fingers were stroking through his hair. “You okay?” she asked softly.

He had intended to say that never had he ever felt better in his life. Instead it came out more “eeeggghhmmmpphhhh” against her breast. She laughed softly and kissed the crown of his head.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured. “So… what’s the real deal? What kind of special ability did you discover?”

Ichabod felt his heart stumble in his chest. He wasn’t ready to tell her that he knew who she was. But there was something he _could_ tell her. Something that only himself and his many times great granddaughter knew… He lifted his head and looked toward the balcony. “Let’s go outside on the balcony and I can show you.”

Abbie shifted her hips and flipped their positions so she could sit up. Ichabod felt a stirring in his groin then realized he was still aroused enough to remain buried inside of his lovely goddess. Her brows arched and she smiled coyly. “Are you sure about that balcony thing? Because if your talent is staying hard, I doubt the balcony is an appropriate place to be right now.”

She swirled her hips agonizingly slow. It was Ichabod’s turn to shudder. He grasped her hips but she immediately moved his hands to her thighs and held them there. “Not this time, baby,” she said softly. “We have tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday… all weekend. And I know you’re going to be focused on me. Let me focus on you just this once.”

“Abbie…” Ichabod sighed ragged. 

She hummed softly as she rocked against him. “Say it again, Ichabod…”

“Abbie…” he groaned, amazed at how effortless it was for her to keep his hands exactly where she wanted them. 

Her walls squeezed around him and she moaned softly. “I can feel you getting harder,” she sighed. She began to rise and fall on him, lifting her body slow then dropping down against his groin. She visibly shuddered, rolled her shoulders, then shook her head to clear it. “Oh, shit… fuck… you’re like fucking… steel. Oh god, oh god… Ichabod… Come for me, baby…”

Ichabod was a weak man and he knew this very well, especially when it came to his Abigail. He wanted to give her everything and anything she asked for as well as the things she wanted but was too prideful to ask for. So it was no surprise to himself when he almost immediately succumbed to her desire.

Once he was spent, Abbie grinned cheekily and climbed off of him. “I’m going to go get a shower. You’re welcome to join me. Then we can order some pizza or something and go do the thing you want to show me on the balcony.”

Ichabod raised his head, still somewhat foggy headed from what had just transpired. “Did you…”

She held up a hand, and wriggled her fingers. “The record of five still stands, matched but unsurpassed.” She scurried into the bathroom and closed the door before he could garner enough energy to follow.

  
#  


Abbie idly chewed on a slice of cheesy, greasy pizza. She had her feet curled up in her seat, wearing one of the luxurious robes provided by the hotel, and was studying a gorgeous glass chess set on the balcony table.

“You know… you have to be one of the only people I know that carries a damn chess board everywhere they go,” she commented.

Ichabod stared across the table at her, brow arched. “You never complained whilst we were travelling together.”

“I'm not complaining it's just weird that while you were packing for this weekend, you literally had the thought…” she dropped her tone to a low baritone “Perhaps my Siren would enjoy chess whilst we have a brief respite from the vast amount of fornicating we will be partaking in…”

Ichabod grinned as he moved his piece then finished off the last slice of his pizza. Abbie was glad they ordered two. She had already polished off half of hers. Ichabod had eaten an entire meat supreme with extra cheese all on his own… and was eyeballing what remained of her triple pepperoni. 

Abbie pulled her pizza closer when he licked his lips.

“That is actually not too far from what occurred to me,” he replied when she blocked his intention to steal her pizza. “I also knew we would require some non-sensual activities.”

Abbie closed her pizza box then studied the chess board. Shaking her head, she sighed. “Rookie mistake Captain…” She captured his king with ease and stood, hands in the air. “Kneel before the goddess of chess.”

She yelped when Ichabod slipped from his seat, kneeling before her. He pulled one of her hands down into his. “Siren… Abigail.”

Her heart started beating faster. Hearing him say her name, with such tenderness made her feel weak in the knees. Hell it had certainly made her feel some type of way during sex earlier. She hadn't been prepared for that.

“Ichabod…” she started, her voice trembling. 

“I wished to divulge a secret to you,” he said gently. Abbie released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. “A secret which only one other living person is privy to… even… even Katrina never knew.”

At that, Abbie sank back down in her seat. It had to be something good if he had never shared it with anyone. She warranted he had either shared it with Joe, Melody, Latisha, or Carol. Considering only one other knew, she guessed it was either Joe or Melody. Most likely Melody because she was almost sure Joe would have told her about any weird magical abilities from the Captain.

“What is it, Ichabod?” she asked softly.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Carefully he unfurled her fingers and turned her palm up. Abbie couldn't help but smile as he cupped her hand in his and stretched it out over the balcony. She looked around eagerly, trying to spot any kind of change or anything out of the ordinary that might indicate magic.

After a moment a chipmunk scampered down the side of a tree and leapt across to the balcony. Abbie's eyes widened as it climbed into her palm, stood on its back feet and chattered excitedly.

“She says hello, that it's nice to meet the new goddess,” Ichabod whispered in her ear.

“What's going on,” Abbie asked, grinning widely. She had never held a chipmunk before or seen one so close. They were a lot chubbier than she expected.

Ichabod moved the hand that was cradling hers and the chipmunk hoped over into it. The tiny creature continued to chatter and Ichabod chuckled. “Yes… yes she is very beautiful. I apologize for interrupting.” It then scampered back to its tree. “I can…” his face flushed slightly “I can communicate with animals.”

Abbie wasn't entirely sure why tears sprang to her eyes. But she took Ichabod’s face in her hands then placed a quick kiss on his lips. “That's so sweet… Oh my God.”

Just when he couldn't have possibly been more of an adorable dork… he proved her wrong. “Is it just… small woodland creatures or…”

“As far as I am aware, it is any creature that is willing to communicate,” Ichabod said bashfully. “You… you do not think of it as a silly gift?”

“No!” Abbie laughed. “I mean… you're practically a Disney princess.” She laughed when he snorted. “So… how does it… work? So they use words… feelings…”

Ichabod’s face brightened, as though this was the first time in his long life someone had bothered asking. Which, odds were favourable for that being the case. “Its different for each creature… They seem to understand me when I speak to them. Some respond better to images and emotions… and… why are looking at me like that?”

Abbie blinked and shook her head to clear it. “So many things make sense now… Can… can you… see through their eyes. Like… see what they're seeing?” He closed his eyes and nodded. “That's how you can find me. Isn't it?”

“Not always,” he said softly. “I am uncertain if it is related or not but… I am sometimes able to access certain abilities of various animals. Such as I can follow your scent on the air… I can hear your heart beating from distances… I can _feel it_ as though you are part of me. And I can see your light… like a star in the sky. I can find you almost anywhere.”

Abbie tried to get her heart to stop fluttering around in her chest at the softness in his voice. 

“Except your home. I cannot seem to find your home no matter how hard I try,” he sighed. “And no one will tell me where it is.”

“Protection wards,” Abbie said. “You can't find my house unless I want you to. Your granddaughter found my house because of a fucking loophole. I wanted some Savannah Smiles and she just happened to have several boxes on hand.”

“Melody knows where you live,” Ichabod gawked, his eye growing wide. He scowled. “That pint size traitor… How long has she known?”

Abbie grinned and shook her head. “I pinkie promised not to give definitive dates. But it's been a while. How long have you know you could… talk to animals?”

“Since I was very young,” he admitted softly. “My father found it to be… irritating so I had to stop doing so.”

Abbie stood, holding his hand in both of hers. “Let's get some sleep,” she whispered.

“Why do I get the feeling it's not sleep you want?” Ichabod asked, his eyes roaming over her greedily.

Abbie looked out over the balcony. “Because the moon is full and we have all the time in the world.” She glanced around before letting her robe fall to the floor of the balcony, bathing herself in the moonlight.

She watched his pupils dilate and his nostrils flared. Abbie stepped back, grinning and crooking her finger to beckon him to follow. Before she even made it to the door, he was drawing her up against him and carrying her to the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ow, ow, ow…” the Siren whimpered as she limped across the lawn.

“Just let me…”

“No. I'm _fine_ ,” she snapped. She swatted at Ichabod as he stepped closer anyway then scooped her into his arms. “Put me _down_! Stop touching me! This is exactly the reason why I--” she gave a frustrated scream.

She fought against him as he carried her into the manor where Carol and Latisha were busily making it look like they had been baking and not, in fact, stealing little affectionate kisses between frosting rainbow cupcakes. Ichabod deposited the Siren on the unused end of the counter.

“She has injured herself,” Ichabod huffed. 

“I have not. I'm fine,” the Siren groused.

“Awww,” Carol cooed. “They're fighting again. It’n it adorable.”

Latisha sighed and shook her head and made her away over to the Siren. She handed the smaller woman a wooden spoon covered with frosting. “Here, babe, clean this while I check you out.”

The Siren stuck her tongue out at Ichabod then shoved the entire curved end of the wooden spoon in her mouth. 

“What happened?” Latisha asked.

The Siren narrowed her eyes. Ichabod sighed at her stubbornness. “She tripped over one of the croquet wickets and injured her ankle.”

His lover let out a frustrated groan. “Yes because who the hell plays croquet these days,” she grumbled as Latisha removed both her boots.

“Normally I would ask which ankle but damn, babe, it's obvious,” Latisha said, shoving up the right leg of the Siren’s leggings. Her ankle had already doubled in size. 

Ichabod fidgeted nervously when Latisha lightly pressed on the injury and the Siren let out a sob. Latisha hissed slightly. “I think you should go to the hospital and get an xray to make sure it's not broken.”

Ichabod dashed to the little hook next to the door and retrieved a set of keys. “We shall make haste to--”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t have to go anywhere.” she gave Ichabod a pointed look. “I’m especially not going anywhere with your ass.” She wriggled off of the counter and howled painfully when her feet touched the floor.

Latisha shook her head. “I’ll take you,” she stated, taking the keys from Ichabod. When the Siren opened her mouth to object, the older woman pointed at her sternly. “I don’t want to hear it. Ichabod… take her to the car.”

Ichabod bowed his head politely and scooped his Siren up into his arms. She proceeded to resume objecting, even once Latisha had pulled off in Carol’s volvo. He wasn’t even entirely certain what had upset his lover this time. Things had been going seemingly well when she had first snuck into his bedroom.

Her FBI work had been keeping her busy for the past week and she hadn’t been able to come see him. So, naturally, things had become quite passionate as soon as he had pulled her in through the window.

“Here.”

Ichabod shook his head to clear it. Carol was holding a frosted, sprinkled cupcake out toward him. He slid a stool away from the island and took a seat. “Thank you Miss Carol.”

“Well you looked upset and like my dear old ma used to say… nothing boosts the spirit like a cupcake,” Carol said. She grinned so widely her nose wrinkled adorably. “So what are you two kids spatting about now, eh?”

Ichabod scoffed softly. _Kids_. She and Miss Latisha were, if one did not take his long nap into consideration, fifteen years older than he. So, in a way they were old enough to be his mothers. However, in actuality, he was older than the pair of them combined.

“She claims I was being too rough whilst--”

Carol squeaked and plugged her ears. “La la la la. TMI, Ichabod.” Secretly he had always been amused at how Miss Carol said his name. Her squeaky little voice mixed with her Wisconsin accent always made his name sound like _Eekahbawd_.

Ichabod chuckled and shook his head. “In my defense, you asked.”

She lowered her hands and laughed, leaning over the counter as she peeled the wrapper of a cupcake for herself. “Actually, I want _all_ the deets. Every last smutty detail.”

Ichabod narrowed his eyes. “Is it because you truly wish to know the details or because you wish to psychoanalyze the situation?”

“Ichabod, I'm a trained, certified professional psychologist… with a Psy.D and everything...” she bit off half her cupcake in one bite. “I _psy-foe-un-uh-nhh-lfff evvuthun_.” She swallowed and patted her chest delicately. “Sorry… I psychoanalyze everything.”

He sighed and delicately peeled away the paper on his cupcake. “She claimed I was being too rough with her… however I was barely touching her at that point because of her complaints. So she pushed me away and said she was leaving.”

Carol chewed her cupcake slowly as she thought about what he said. “Well… I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume her breasts?” Ichabod nodded lightly. “Okay, now I gotta ask… Is she on her… whatcha call it… moontide?” 

Ichabod scowled when she laughed. “Considering what we were about to do… I can only assume, no.”

Carol shrugged. “Maybe she's about to be. I mean, there is one other possibility… I know you don't like hearing about other people's sex lives and all but… when Tishy was pregnant with Melody she _constantly_ complained about her breasts hurting or that I was being too rough when I was barely touching her.”

Ichabod felt his heart leap into his throat. “With… child?” he asked softly. In the space of two seconds he envisioned his lover in various stages of pregnancy, from barely showing to her belly heavy with his child, maneuvering through the manor.

Carol nodded. “That one of the first signs,” she said. “If that's the case you better let her know you know her name and get a ring on her finger as soon as you can.”

“With child…” he said again, trying to wrap his head around the idea. He shook his head. “No. That is not possible. She makes absolute certain to visit her doctor and receive her… depo injection.”

Carol clicked her fingers. “Side effect of depo is breast tenderness. If she went to get it recently that could be it.”

“She last received it just before our liaison in Nyack,” Ichabod provided. Carol arched a brow. “What?”

“She won't tell you her name herself but she tells you when she goes to get her depo shots?” Carol asked flatly.

“This may come as quite the shock bit she and I do more than commit various types of sin whilst together,” Ichabod preened. “Also, I always make certain to ask how she spent and enjoyed her days between our trysts.”

“You are a rare and pure gem, Ichabod,” Carol said. “She's a very lucky girl.”

Ichabod blushed lightly and shoved the entirety of his cupcake into his mouth. Once he swallowed he beamed at Carol as he stole another. “I have doubts the Girl Scouts will be able to enjoy these confectionaries for their meeting… I just may eat them all myself.” He quickly scarfed down the cupcake before Carol could take it from him.

“Oh for God’s sake, Ichabod,” Carol admonished, tossing him a dish towel. “Clean your face off, you look like you just got done shooting gay porn.”

  
#  


Abbie could still hear the nurse practitioner's voice. _It's not broken, just a really bad sprain. Keep it elevated and stay off of it for a few days and you should be fine_.

That hadn't been that part that had concerned her. It had been what came after.

She softly stroked Floof’s downy feathers. The baby phoenix made a soft cooing sound but continued to snooze peacefully on her chest. “Maybe I should get a second opinion when I go for my follow-up…”

And a few days later, her doctor said the same thing. So did her third opinion a week later. 

Now she sat at her kitchen table, watching Floof roll around and clean himself in a bowl of water she had provided for his nightly bird bath. She weighed all her options but she came back to the same thing…

“What do you think Floofy Poof?” she asked.

Floof stopped rolling around and rocked back until she could see his mismatched eyes. He shuddered, sending droplets of water everywhere, then blinked at her. _Veep peep peep meep_ , he wheezed softly then fell face first into his water.

Abbie nodded. “You're right.” She had no idea what he had just said, but she agreed. The water around Floof began to boil, Abbie rolled him onto his back and he gave a small burp accompanied by a small swirl of smoke. “Good boy. No unauthorized explosions.”

She scooped the phoenix from the bowl and tucked him into the neckline of her shirt, between her breasts. Her eyes fell to the clock. _It was almost 11pm_. Abbie opened a closet that was in the very center of her home and peered at the two foot tall, wooden, protection charm that looked like an old woman.

She carefully tied a scarf around the statue's’ eyes, reciting an ancient spell she had found in Grace Dixon's journal. Abbie shivered as she felt the protection charm drop.

Afterward, she closed the closet and rubbed Floof’s head with her finger. _Peep_ , Floof squeaked. For some reason she felt there was something symbolic about her dropping the protection ward.

But, no, The Captain had long ago wormed his way under all her defenses. It's just this final one was on _her terms_. 

She delicately placed Floof on the dresser while she got ready for bed. Abbie stopped, once naked, to look at her reflection in the mirror. Her face warmed as she placed her hands over the base of her abdomen. She turned left, then right.

_The best we can tell is… you're around 9 weeks…_

She didn't _look_ pregnant. She certainly didn't _feel_ pregnant. She wasn't nauseous or tired… nor was she showing in the slightest... her boobs just hurt.

Abbie counted back in her head. _9 weeks_... that was when her and the Captain had made away to Nyack. “Shit,” she hissed as she realized what had happened.

She had been late getting to her doctor because of stupid apocalypse stuff. Her doctor had warned her to use condoms for the next 7 days just to be safe on the no pregnancy thing. But she had seen Ichabod and just… forgot until he had asked about her week for the fifteenth time and she had been too weak to do anything other than tell him.

_His hand stroked her belly and his eyes twinkled. “I can think many things worse than having a child with you,” he had whispered when she told him._

_She had rolled her eyes and sighed, “Dork…” Her hand covered his and for a second she did wish she would be one of the six out of a hundred that defied the birth control. “There's probably nothing to worry about. I've been steady getting them for years… They said it's usually the first year it's a problem.”_

_“Then I shall not worry in the slightest,” he vowed, kissing her fingertips._

She knew he would be all over this like a cat on a heating pad. But… was _she_? Was this something she wanted beyond just a fantasy? Abbie knew that it would be hard to be a mom and fight the apocalypse. There were risks. There was dangers beyond just the normal worries.

What if whomever she was fighting found out and tried to use the baby against her?

Abbie looked down when she heard a soft cooing sound. Floof had fallen asleep on her dresser. With a small smile she finished getting dressed and nestled the baby phoenix into her cleavage again then went to bed.

  
#  


Ichabod looked both ways before slinking from the Archives. His nerves were on end. They had been most of the day… week… since his beloved Abigail had been taken to the hospital by Latisha.

Was she well? Had it been broken and she taken a fever? Was his love on Death's door? Was there nothing he could do to preserve her life?

He knew she _needed_ him. He could feel her tugging at his soul, asking him to come to her. Just as she did every night. It was why he found himself skulking to the same quaint little street every night. 

And every night he could never find her. The amount of frustration he felt at being right there close to her but her being out of reach… he couldn't even find any creatures to connect with to see where she could possibly be. There was nothing. Nothing except the ruins of an old dilapidated house, emblazoned with warnings against citizens crossing onto the property due to mold and the structure not being sound.

It was so caved in, he knew there was no way his love could be there, regardless of what he felt. More than once he had encountered an inhabitant of one of the homes on a late night walk. They had never heard of a woman fitting Abigail's description on their street.

He sighed when he reached West Helcomb Street without incident. Of course that was why he made his way there late at night. He had gotten better, over the past few years, with going outside but the noisiness of Sleepy Hollow was still an assault to his senses. Therefore he usually only ventured outside via the munition tunnels or waited until late at night, once the city had started winding down.

His eyes roamed down the street, taking everything in. “I am here my dearest Abigail,” he whispered softly. “I can feel you calling out to me but I cannot find you…”

He followed the pull until he was about halfway down the street. Then the pull disappeared, just as it always did. His heart began thumping frantically as he whirled around looking down the street. It wasn't until he turned to face behind him that he saw it.

There. Where he knew there was only the bones of a ruined home, instead stood an immaculate home. His eyes roamed over the respectable porch, complete with a swing and a twinkling light over the mailbox bearing the name _Mills_. Despite the mid autumn environment, rose bushes and hydrangeas were in full, fragrant bloom.

His eyes travelled upward, just in time to see a light on the second floor turn out.

He wondered, precisely where the home had come from. How could he have looked past it so many times? But then he remembered magic was a thing that was real and that his dear friend Lachlan Fredericks had a concealment on his own estate. Until…

Ichabod swallowed down a lump that formed in his throat. Now was not the time to be recalling his unpleasant past and the people that had betrayed him. Though he had no doubt they would always be in his memories, they belonged in the past. He had a new family, a good and wholesome family, it wasn't perfect but it was the best he had ever had.

And his Siren had lured him here. To her domicile. Perhaps it was time for him to fall into her embrace and let her drown him in whatever situation had made her reach for him.

He didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he was standing upon her porch, at her door, his hand resting lovingly against the wood.

She had been calling to him so urgently and now she was silent. Was something amiss? Had she simply fallen asleep waiting for him?

He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind to find something that he could connect to. Something he could convince to find her within her home…

The first thing to respond was something eager to connect to him. He wasn't sure what it was but it responded with a soft, questioning _cheep_ followed by a more enthusiastic _meep_.

Whatever the small creature rested upon shifted. “Shh,” a soft feminine soft whispered. “It's just a dream Floof.” He could feel gentle fingers stroke the creature, brushing away a downy halo of fluff so that Ichabod found himself staring at his precious Abigail's sleepy smile. “Calm down before you explode, sweetie.”

The small creature nestled itself back between Abigail's breasts and soon both she and the creature were once again back to slumber. 

Ichabod carefully pulled his mind away from the creature. He stepped back from the door, his heart feeling lighter than it had in ages.

 _His Abigail had finally let him in_.

He then knew precisely what he had to do. He hastily made his way to the manor to await the morning.

  
#  


Abbie leaned back against her door, her heart fluttering in her chest. “What did he want?” Jenny asked crossly, eyeing the flowers Abbie held cradled in her arms.

After Ichabod had taken a tumble from the porch, he had left the flowers on the steps as an offering. Abbie had waited until he disappeared around the corner to retrieve them. They _were_ beautiful. Normally guys would have gone with a bouquet of roses. But not Ichabod. He had gotten her a bouquet of birds of paradise, all scarlet in colour.

 _Crane Lilies_ , she could hear Persephone’s stern but loving tone say.  
Abbie had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. A bouquet of tiny Crane’s. 

“He wants to _woo_ me,” Abbie laughed.

“Seriously?” Jenny chuckled. “You told him no right? I mean, you just found out you were pregnant. That's excuse enough to turn him down.”

“Yeah but he doesn't know that. I told him you were pregnant,” Abbie said, walking through to the kitchen. Floof meeped and peeped happily when she set the flowers on the table. He bounced over and cooed at the blooms. Abbie patted his head. “No, they aren't more little Floofy Poofs. You're the only one.”

“Wait… What? Abbie, why would you say that?” Jenny squeaked. 

Abbie looked at Jenny questioningly. “Umm… because he's a baby phoenix, those are flowers. He needs to understand he's a very rare spec--”

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Jenny deadpanned. “You _know_ him and Joe still hang out and gossip… The first thing he's going to do is give congratulations to Joe and me next time we're at Sunday dinner.”

“You and Joe better get to work so you're pregnant by Sunday,” Abbie quipped, digging a vase from underneath the sink. She filled it with water then returned to the table to have a seat.

Jenny plopped down across from her at the table. Abbie idly put each bloom into the vase and mingled in the sparse twigs of baby's breath. She then softly blew upon the blooms and their colour intensified and they fully bloomed.

They would remain that way for as long as she kept them. It was one of the perks of being the embodiment of a fertility goddess. That and apparently she could defy statistics and get knocked up while on birth control.

“Abbie…” Jenny sighed. “Do you need me to tell him to leave you alone?”

Abbie looked up at Jenny. “No! Why would you need to? I'm a grown ass woman, I can do it myself.”

“Like you told him about Danny? This isn't something that can wait several weeks, Abbie,” Jenny said. “Eventually he'll realize the truth and he's a wild card. He might try to sell the baby to Moloch or something to get his own soul back.”

“He has a soul, thank you. Joe had him tested. And he'd never hurt me,” Abbie whispered. “Not intentionally anyway…”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Abbie said quickly. Floof peeped softly and looked toward the ceiling. “Anyway… here's a list of things I need you and Joe to see if you can procure for me.” Abbie handed Jenny a list. “The older the better. If you can find one on the markets that could possibly have been my former selves’ that would be awesome.”

Jenny looked over the list. “I'll see what we can find. But you and I are definitely going baby shopping later.”

“Sure thing, Jen,” Abbie grinned.

She escorted Jenny to the door and watched her clamour into her truck and pull off. Abbie then returned to the kitchen. Floof was still chirping at the ceiling. “I know, I know,” she said softly, scooping him into her hands and depositing him in the neckline of her blouse.

Floof nested between her breasts and tucked his head under his partially formed wing to sleep. Abbie slowly climbed her stairs and paused a moment before pushing her bedroom door open. A smile slowly spread across her lips.

“What have we here,” she said softly.

Ichabod turned from his post next to the window, peering out the curtain. His eyes roamed over her slowly. “I have an eidetic memory but I swear you are always more beautiful than I remember…” he said softly. 

Abbie sighed with faux irritation. “I swear you are such a cheeseball.”

They moved toward each other, meeting at the foot of Abbie’s bed. Ichabod swept her up against him and kissed her soundly. His hands spanned her waist as he slowly pulled back enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Your embrace alone brings a warmth to my heart,” he said softly.

Abbie delicately licked her lips. “Actually that's probably just Floofy Poof,” she said, drawing back. When Ichabod looked at her questioningly, Abbie carefully scooped the phoenix from her neckline.

Almost instantly Floof lifted his head and _cheep_ ed several times in greeting. “He's really fluffy so I call him Floof. Poof because, if he gets too excited, he explodes.”

“A phoenix?” Ichabod asked in awe, as Floof bounced from her hands and onto his coat sleeve. He sat on the edge of her bed, eyes wide as he softly greeted Floof.

Floof meeped and peeped excitedly, sparked, then exploded, feathers going everywhere. Ichabod yelped and dropped the flaming chick to the floor. Abbie retrieved a small extinguisher, watched the glowing embers on the floor, and stayed ready just in case.

After a few seconds a fire emitted from the embers and Floof shook the remaining embers from his--no… the feathers were darker and muted maroon as opposed to the scarlet and orange of boy Floof--her feathers. “She got excited. And like I said, she explodes when she gets excited.”

She set Floof back in Ichabod’s hands. “Where did you acquire her? She is lovely.”

“Apparently Boo was a girl and laid an egg. And Floof is what hatched,” Abbie said, setting the fire extinguisher aside, unused. “She didn't burn you too bad did she?”

Ichabod gazed at Floof with complete adoration. Abbie felt her stomach flip flop as she imagined him holding their child just as tenderly. “She did not,” Ichabod replied softly. “She mostly startled me, is all.”

Floof whirled around in his hands then spread out her wings. Tiny sparks flickered at the tips of her wings as she fluttered them experimentally. Floof hopped out of Ichabod’s hands, flapping her wings hard. She tumbled straight to the floor, landing with a soft _heep_.

“Aww, baby no…” Abbie sighed, scooping the baby bird up. “She hasn't quite got the… flying thing down pat…” She carefully secured Floof in her cage. 

Abbie walked back over to Ichabod, with every intention of telling him about the baby. But when she stepped close, he pulled her between his legs and rested his cheek on her chest. 

“Forgive me,” he whispered. 

“For what?” she asked. 

“For whatever transgression I made to make you retreat away from my love for so long,” he replied, his voice quivering gently. “Whether it be my… roughness when we last spoke or some other deed…”

Abbie pulled his face back when he nuzzled the swells of her breasts at her neckline. “Ichabod… you've done nothing wrong. There's nothing to apologize for.”

Her confession rose to the tip of her tongue then froze. Suddenly she just wanted to kiss and hold this sweet, sweet man. She wanted to hold him and reassure him that he had done nothing wrong.

“I have missed you,” Ichabod whispered, as she enveloped his ginormous head in her arms.

“I missed you too,” Abbie replied, just as hushed. She kissed the top of his head, his forehead, eyelids, nose, and finally his lips. It was funny, to her, how she suddenly felt very little apprehension. If anything she felt at ease for the first time in weeks.

“May I hold you?” Ichabod asked.

“I’d like that.” Abbie carefully peeled off his coat, kissing him again. 

As they slowly disrobed each other, Abbie could help but smile because he was trying to keep his hands away from her breasts, opting to stroke her sides and ass instead.

Abbie stepped back and wandered to the head of the bed to pull back the blankets while Ichabod stood and drew the curtains. He stopped for a moment to tickle Floof’s belly as she dangled upside down from the bars of her cage.

A heady feeling swirled through Abbie's brain when he leaned down to nuzzle Floof's belly through the bars and softly murmur to her. She wasn't sure what he said but Floof immediately bounced her way to her nest of broken egg shell, feathers, and fireproof material and nestled in.

“I wish I could understand her the way you do,” Abbie said. “I’d love to know what she really thought about things.”

Ichabod walked over to her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “She adores you. Just as Boo did. In fact she calls you mother.”

Abbie felt her heart stumble. Did he somehow already know? She studied his face for a moment. No. He didn't know.

She clamored into the bed and a few moments later she felt the bed sink down as Ichabod joined her. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her back flush against his chest. He nuzzled his face in her hair and breathed in deeply before sighing with relief. He curled around her as he always did when all he wanted to do was hold her and cuddle.

“Your scent has changed,” he whispered. “Either that or I had forgotten just how beautiful you always smell.”

Abbie smiled softly. “Maybe you just forgot for once. It happens to the best of us.” He hummed softly and then she felt his gentle, even breath on the back of her neck. As she drifted to sleep herself, she couldn't help but wonder if her scent had changed because of the baby.


	3. Chapter 3

_“It wasn't Jenny that found out she was pregnant. It was me.”_

Ichabod was still trying to wrap his mind around the news. The wonderful news. The beautiful news.

His beloved Siren, his precious Grace Abigail… was with child. His child. He had gotten his beloved pregnant. 

Not on purpose, of course. A happy accident. 

He had of course procured any and every book he could find on modern pregnancy. The young woman at the bookstore had seemed taken aback at his presence when he set his selections upon the counter and puffed his chest out with pride.

“Good morning Captain Crane,” the girl.greeted. “No Miss Melody with you today?”

“I am afraid not, Miss Jessica. She is in attendance at school and I have chosen to venture here alone, with a most important personal mission,” he preened.

Miss Jessica peered down at his selections and squeaked. “Is the Siren pregnant?” she asked excitedly as she scanned _What to expect when you're expecting_ and placed it inside his cloth bag.

Ichabod felt his face warm. “She is. So, naturally, I need to know what sort of accommodations I need to make for my nemesis when I capture her.”

Miss Jessica didn't look like she believed his reasons.

“Mmhmm… sure Jan,” Miss Jessica hummed. “Are you two finally going to get married?” She scanned a copy of _Childbirth Without Fear_.

“Why would we get married? We are sworn enemies,” Ichabod huffed. 

Miss Jessica grinned. “I bet you're so excited…” _Finding Calm for the Expectant Mom_ joined his stack.

He couldn't hold it in any longer. “I am. I anticipate accompanying her to a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning.”

Jessica bagged up his books. “That's 87.45. Do you want us to send it to your accountant like usual?”

“Please do, Miss Jessica,” he said, just as the door of the bookstore was thrust open and the object of his affection stormed in.

Abigail stormed right up to him, wagging her finger. “ _Ichabod Crane_. Will you stop telling everyone in town that I am pregnant with your child.”

Ichabod peered down at her, hugging his book bag to his chest. “The gas station clerk, the florist, the butcher, and Miss Jessica is hardly everyone,” he hmphed.

“The manager of the grocery store, the librarian, that barista at Starbucks that writes those smutty stories about us. Hell, you've told Joe so now _everyone_ in town will know,” Abigail griped, holding up a digit for each one. “Not to mention, you sent a damn bouquet to my work so now everyone at work knows, too.”

Ichabod purses his lips. Maybe he _had_ gotten a little carried away whilst making his way to the bookstore…

“May I at least tell Misses Melody, Latisha, and Carol?”

Abbie folded her arms over her chest. “Fine. But you have to wait until I'm there to tell Granny. I wanna see if this is what finally kills that cantankerous old woman.”

“She's already informed me she has too much spite keeping her alive,” Ichabod joked. He cocked his head. “Were the flowers not to your liking?”

A frustrated sound escaped her lips then she threw her hands into the air with a loud sigh. “They were beautiful!” she grumbled. “Geesh… just stop telling everyone. Okay?”

“Not another soul beyond those approved shall hear it from my lips,” Ichabod said with a gentle bow of his head.

Abbie narrowed her eyes. “I'm watching you,Captain,” she said lowly, gesturing between her eyes and him as she eased toward the door. She made the gesture once more before slipping out the door.

Ichabod watched as she passed the window behind the counter, watching him suspiciously. She gave him the gesture one last time before she disappeared around the corner. Miss Jessica giggled and pulled her phone from her smock to type furiously. “Veronica and Sophia are gonna love this…”

“I beg your pardon?” Ichabod asked. “I was asked to tell no others…”

Jessica shrugged indifferently. “I'm not you, am I?”

“Fair point,” Ichabod sighed. “I shall see you Saturday, Miss Jessica, with Miss Melody in tow.”

Jessica beamed happily. “See ya then Captain Crane. Enjoy the doctors visit tomorrow!”

Ichabod couldn't help but preen a little then left with his purchases.

  
#  


Abbie smirked as she watched Floof bat her tiny wings furiously. When the phoenix managed to lift an entire half inch off the table then flopped like a dead weight onto the surface again, Abbie gave a soft clap. “I'm so proud of you baby,” she murmured and kissed the top of Floof’s head. “You're almost strong enough to fly.”

Floof thrilled softly and ruffled her feathers. Her head perked up. _Cheep, cheep, meep, chooo_.

Abbie scooped Floof up and tucked her into her cleavage. “I think you're mistaken. It's only six. It couldn't possibly be Daddy. And Auntie Jenny is in Virginia with Uncle Joe.”

_Peep_.

“It's a school night so it can't be Melody either,” Abbie commented.

However, a few seconds later a polite knock sounded at her door. Abbie scowled and walked toward the door. She sighed and shook her head when she spotted the Captain through her door windows. When she opened the door, she saw he bore several cloth grocery bags.

“What are you doing?” she asked flatly. 

Floof chirped excitedly.

Ichabod stood at attention as one could with grocery bags in their hands. “I was hoping, if it was no imposition, I could cook a meal for you.”

Abbie poked her head out the door. The street was empty. Several bouquets of roses were on her porch swing and there were several colourful ribbons tied to the branches of her bushes, with little tags on them. She grabbed his coat and yanked him into the house.

“No… really, what and how are you here?” Abbie asked. “You never leave the house this early in the day.”

“The farmers market closed at five,” Ichabod stated. He made his way toward the kitchen, a bounce to his step. “And Mrs. Herring has a delightful harvest of zucchini which she has been bragging about in the message boards. And young master Pena has a delightful clover honey which Miss Carol swears by.”

Abbie slowly followed after him, lingering in the doorway of the kitchen. She watched him carefully unload his purchases, setting two robust steaks on the corner furthest from the vegetables. Her brow furrowed as he made his way around her kitchen as though he had walked through it a billion times before.

He went on about his various finds at the farmer's market, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. After a moment he placed a wine glass on the counter and poured it full of a deep red juice. “And Miss Marisol asked that you give this a taste. It's her spiced pomegranate juice. An offering, she called it.”

“An offering?” Abbie asked. She made her way across to the island and picked up the glass. After sampling the juice, Abbie frowned. “This going to take getting used to…”

“The juice?” Ichabod asked curiously as he diced an onion.

Abbie shook her head. “No… the offerings.”

Sure, on occasion people had randomly gifted her some trinket or a flower. But since all the things with Pandora and Persephone, it had become more common. Also, since dropping the protection wards on the house, she would often find small gifts, bouquets, and other plants on her porch every morning.

A few parishioners had gone so far as to tie little prayer request ribbons to her bushes or their offering.

Ichabod smiled gently. “You could conceal your home again,” he suggested softly. “Stop wearing lilac. Stop being the sort of goddess one wants to serve…”

“But I'm not even trying to be a goddess,” Abbie sighed. “I'm just… being… me.”

“Have you ever considered that is _why_ they love you so? Because of your innate kindness and humbleness. Not to mention you are a very beautiful woman. Is it any wonder they wish to worship you? The worst sort of gods are those who demand servitude. The best are ones who do not ask for it but take the time to hear the voices of their devotees and reward their devotion,” Ichabod said, scooping the freshly chopped onions into his hands. 

He dropped the onions into a pan and the aroma of cooking filled the house with ease. 

_Peep_ , said Floof, leaning her head back to peer at Abbie. Abbie looked down at Floof.

“I didn't ask for your opinion, Floof,” she said dryly.

“She wasn't giving an opinion,” Ichabod stated. “She would like to be--”

Floof teetered forward and face planted onto the counter, then wobbled across the counter, cheeping at Ichabod. He cocked a brow then sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out a small paper envelope. He retrieved a tea saucer from the cabinet and poured a small amount of the contents onto the plate and offered it to Floof.

“What's that? Abbie asked, tilting her head.

“A small treat from Heart of the Hudson Girl Scout Troop #476,” Ichabod replied. “They diligently researched what might suit the fancy of a growing phoenix and made a nutritious meal for it.”

Abbie found herself smiling fondly as Ichabod set Floof atop the saucer. She dove face first into the meal. Ichabod washed his hands and continued preparing the meal they would be having this evening. She sipped at her juice to hide her smile before he noticed it.

“By the way, at what time do I need to be at the doctor's office in the morning?” He asked after a moment.

Abbie startled slightly. “What? Oh. I… I thought you were staying the night?”

“I did not wish to assume…”

Abbie cocked a brow. She held up a finger to make him pause. He and Floof shared a look as she backed toward the archway into the kitchen. Floof peeped, Ichabod shrugged. Abbie made her way to the porch. She walked down the steps and reached behind one of the bushes to retrieve a knapsack that said yes, he had assumed, then returned to the kitchen.

Ichabod sucked in a breath when she plopped the bag on the counter. “I may have hoped for the best but I dared not assume. Which is why I left it outside.”

Floof twittered happily, sitting up on the saucer and flapping her wings. Ichabod stroked her under her chin. Tiny bits of her feed clung to her feathers. She hiccupped then burped out a small flame.

Abbie narrowed her eyes. “What all is in that stuff?”

“Meal worms, seeds, ghost chili peppers, bits of ground charcoal, a hint of kindling,” Ichabod replied. “According to the troop’s research, phoenixes would love spicy treats and things which encourage fire, in addition to normal avian fare. They did not divulge all of their secrets.”

After a moment, Abbie walked around the island and wrapped her arms around Ichabod’s waist, snuggling up to his side. Ichabod paused and set down his cooking implements to return her embrace and kiss the top of her head. Abbie closed her eyes and sighed in contentment at how warm and protected she felt in his arms. She felt him smile against her hair and knew he felt the same.

When she pulled back, she looked up at Ichabod affectionately. “How can I help?” she asked, indicating the meal being prepared.

Ichabod immediately picked her up and set her on the edge of the counter. Abbie's eyes widened as he stepped between her knees. She really liked the direction this was going. Especially since, apparently, the island was the perfect height for naughty business to take place.

He brushed his lips over hers briefly then stepped back. “You can help by sitting here and remaining beautiful and inspirational.”

“That's the sweetest way anyone has ever told me I can help by staying out of the way,” Abbie teased.

“Permit me to finish getting everything started and I shall be all yours for half an hour,” Ichabod said gently. “At which time I must then start the steaks.”

Abbie opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it closed before she said something she wasn't ready to say. She felt it. She just didn't yet feel ready to speak it. Instead she watched him give a small hair flip and turn back to his task. He gave whatever he was preparing a taste then scooped up a small spoonful to present to her. Abbie opened her mouth and he delicately fed her the taste. 

It was sweet and creamy at first but then a sharp twang burst forth and she arched her brows. “Ohh… That’s good. What’s it for?”

“It’s the sauce for the steaks,” he murmured. “It needs to first simmer for half an hour and then it can be used to cook them.”

“What else is on the menu,” Abbie asked, playing with the vee of his shirt.

“Roasted zucchini spears and bow tied pasta tossed with a delightful garlic, basil, and olive oil sauce and dashed with fresh parmesan,” Ichabod replied with a small preen. His eyes darkened as she fisted his shirt and tugged him closer. “And… for dessert…”

Abbie smirked when his voice drifted off. “Do I get at least a small taste of what dessert will be?”

Her heart fluttered when he took her face in his hands and brushed his lips over hers. She tilted her head back and parted her lips to grant him permission to deepen his kiss. Abbie slid her hands up his chest and behind his neck, entwining her fingers so he couldn’t pull away. His hands slid down her body and settled into the curves of her waist.

It wasn’t until Floof cooed softly, making Abbie laugh, that they pulled apart. They both looked at the phoenix, which was rocking back and forth, next to them, looking up at them affectionately. “No one asked you,” they both said in unison then delicately stroked the small bird as it huddled close to them to join the lovefest.

  
#  


“Oh god… oh yes,” Abbie moaned as Ichabod placed open mouthed kisses on her breasts. “Mmm... oh…”

His mouth moved down her abdomen and to her belly. Ichabod marvelled in the subtle changes in Abbie's body and was eager to learn the nuances of her dips and curves. His fingers spread over her belly when he pulled back. His eyes widened as he gently stroked the soft, barely noticeable swell there.

How had he not noticed whilst they had lain together, before she had told him? Or was this a new development since then? He placed a soft kiss below her navel.

In his day it was considered sinful to take congress with one's wife whilst she was with child. Not to mention they had thought it unhealthy to do so. But his reading had lain most of his concerns to rest.

Although… his love did have an appointment in a few hours. He doubted she or the doctor wished to deal with the remnants of a morning of making love.

Thankfully he was spared the task of reminding his lover of her pending doctor's appointment by Floof warbling out a soft tune underneath the fireproof tarp covering her cage.

Then said tarp caught fire.

Both Abbie and Ichabod scrambled for something to give them a hint of modesty. “What the Hell,” Abbie shrieked, pulling on a robe. “She's never caught fire this bad…”

She reached into her bedside table to fetch a small extinguisher. Before Abbie could climb out of the bed the flames billowed and rolled into a fiery orb. It then darted across the room and an elegant looking bird perched itself on the headboard, purring beautifully.

Floof now had sleek maroon feathers with just a hint of her baby fluff. Her odd sized eyes surrounded by bright yellow. It looked as though Floof were wearing a golden mask.

Abbie set down the fire extinguisher and walked over to gently stroke Floof’s golf ball sized head. “You had another growth spurt,” Abbie cooed.

Floof was now roughly the size of a small hen, with long spindle legs and an elongated beak. She chattered softly and nuzzled Abbie's hand. Ichabod could feel the affection wafting from the young phoenix then a pang of sadness when Abbie's smile faded.

“I can't carry her around anymore,” Abbie lamented. Then, as though to prove Abbie wrong, Floof hopped onto her chest and Abbie wrapped her arms around the phoenix. Floof nuzzled Abbie’s cheek and cooed affectionately. Abbie laughed and returned the nuzzles. “Well, you’re too big for the cage now… I’m gonna have to fireproof the entire house.”

Floof cocked her head and purred softly. Ichabod smiled as various images played across the forefront of his mind. “She thinks she should be able to control the fire a little better now.” 

Abbie gave him a withering look. “She melted a fireproof tarp, Ichabod,” she said quietly.

“And yet she did not so much as singe your bed or anything else,” Ichabod pointed out. “She was simply experiencing a major regeneration.”

Abbie set Floof on the bed and patted her head. “I’ll have to trust y’all for now,” she said as Floof made her way to the tangle of blankets and made herself comfortable, then tucked her head under her wing. “I guess we should get ready to go to the doctor.”

Ichabod retrieved his overnight bag and sucked in a deep breath. “I brought both modern attire and my preferred attire… I have no desire to embarrass you…” His heart lightened when Abbie smiled softly and walked over to pull him down for a kiss.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in, babe,” she said softly, threading her fingers through his hair. “I think you’re sexy either way. To hell with what anyone else thinks of what you wear.”

In the end he decided upon the modern fair, though he did notice a moment of disappointment on his lover's face when she realized what he had selected. But then disappointment was replaced by a mischievous smile as she stepped over to help him with his tie.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” Abbie commented, smoothing her hands down his waistcoat.

“I thought, perhaps, this would prove less conspicuous than the other,” Ichabod explained. “In my other fair, we might attract more attention than you wish to have at the moment.”

“I don't know,” Abbie murmured. “You might attract attention for a whole other reason in this…”

Ichabod took her hands in his own and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Abigail…” he said softly. She looked up at him and he watched her pupils dilate as her smile widened. Her breath gently hitched as he brushed a stray curl behind her ear. “The depth of my love for you is insurmountable. You're everything I never knew I wanted, everything I need… and infinitely more than what I deserve.”

Abbie's face contorted and she looked away, pulling her hands away to mop at her eyes. “Stop that,” she said, her voice small and vulnerable. “Let's go… before we miss the appointment.”

Ichabod tilted her chin up and lightly pressed his lips to hers. He moved to the door to open it. Once Abbie had passed through he dashed past her to precede down the stairs in front of her. His heart fluttered when he heard her soft laugh when he offered his hand at the base of the stairs.

She eyed him with a small smile on her lips as she tucked her hand into his and took the final two steps. “You have me spoiled,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm gonna be expecting any guy to do all the things you do and they won't…”

“Then it is good that I fully intend to spend the rest of my life at your side,” Ichabod replied.

“I guess so,” Abbie said with a smile.


	4. Chapter Four

The ride to the doctor's office was thankfully uneventful. Ichabod felt trepidation as Abbie navigated into the busier part of town. Her hand rested over his and he couldn't help but feel most of his nerves settle. He turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers.

When they arrived, Ichabod quickly bound from the vehicle and ran around to open Abbie's door and give her an assisting hand as she slid out of her seat.

Side-by-side they meandered down the winding pavement to the office door. Ichabod could not help but smile as the fauna along the path bloomed as his beloved passed.

It meant she was happy. Content. Though she seldom said so, it was the small things he could note that let him know. If he played even the smallest part in making her happy on this day, he could hold himself with pride.

He opened the door for her and she scurried inside. Ichabod had been inside a few doctor's offices in the modern era. Each one had been woefully the same--nondescript, basic, impersonal, and cold.

However, this place was warm, sported a lovely mural of families in a park, and even had a small play area for the children while their mothers, in various state of pregnancy gossiped and shared advice.

Ichabod stood with his hands clasped behind his back while Abbie signed in. He noticed several of the patients were watching Abbie with awestruck expressions. This was a hazard of sorts with Abbie being happy. She drew attention with ease.

He offered his hand when she turned toward him and he escorted her to an empty seat. Once she was seated, he sat next to her and cradled her hand in both of his. 

Ichabod glanced around the waiting room and felt his heart clench at the sight of such happy faces. In his day there was always the risk of the mother dying in childbirth. While he had read that it was still possible, it was not as commonplace as it had once been. The lack of worry was evident on the faces in the room.

Only one face was dejected, but Ichabod noticed the lovely Latina was trying to engage the gentleman next to her in conversation about being able to find out the gender of their child. Well, gentleman in the very loosest definition. The young man seemed more interested in his mobile device than anything the young woman was saying. She didn’t seem to be worried over the prospect of passing while bringing their child into the world.

After a moment, the young woman sighed and rubbed her belly, speaking to it softly in Spanish. “I'll try to find someone better before you come along,” she said. “There's plenty of people that's said they would love you like you're theirs.”

Abbie squeezed his hand gently and gave him a smile. Ichabod returned the smile then looked to the young woman. “When are you due, if you do not mind my asking?” he asked in Spanish. 

The young woman's face lit up and she smiled brightly. “In about four months,” she replied cheerfully, rubbing her belly. “I get to find out if I am having a boy or a girl today.”

“Do you have a preference?”

She glanced toward her partner. “I am hoping for a girl. I dread the thought of this asshole trying to teach a son to be a man.” Her eyes went to Abbie and lingered. “And if I have a daughter she can serve the goddess and bring honour to our family.”

Abbie looked toward him. “La diosa?”

Ichabod brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “She means you.”

“I figured as much,” Abbie said softly, smiling. She pulled her hand from his, patted his thigh, then gave it a gentle squeeze.

After a little more conversation, he learned the young woman’s name was Prudencia. Her boyfriend was Charlie--which brought his attention for a moment in the form of a scowl and a sharp demand of wanting to know why she said his name. Ichabod sucked in a sharp breath.

“Considering you have said naught a solitary word to her since our arrival,” Ichabod huffed. “It is no business of yours as to why she said your name.” Abbie patted his thigh and rubbed it again. He placed his hand over hers. “Not just yet, my dearest.”

Charlie scowled again. “If you’re saying my name it is my business…”

Prudencia sighed and rolled her eyes. “Will you stop showing your ass,” she said in a hushed tone. “People are staring.”

Certainly enough, Charlie was attracting attention of the other mothers, who were trying to gather their children close.

“As I said,” Ichabod said sternly. “You have not said a word to her, despite her attempts to engage you in conversation about _your child_. Miss Prudencia is cultivating a miracle in her womb, the very least a proper _father_ and _gentleman_ should do is listen to what the mother of his child has to say without her having to beg for it.” He tilted his chin up proudly. “Therefore, it is no concern of yours as to why she spoke your name.”

Charlie was about to speak again, but Abbie’s soft voice cut through the room. “Charlie,” she said firmly. Charlie’s face turned peaceful, as though enchanted. “You are in an altar dedicated to women. You will hold your tongue and serve my priestess which has given you the _privilege_ of providing her with a child.” 

She looked at Prudencia. “Prudencia… do not feel obligated to keep this man in your life just because of the baby. The child is yours and yours alone. You are the one letting her grow inside of you. You are the one which will birth her. So she is yours. If you would like, you’re more than welcome to have sanctuary in either my home or Ichabod’s amongst my priestesses so that you don’t have to worry about him.”

Prudencia blushed softly and smiled. “Thank you for the offer, my goddess. I have a home I can be safe in. I do not want to have Charlie in my life anymore. But he keeps convincing me to stay with him because of the baby.”

Abbie returned her gaze to Charlie. “Charlie. After this appointment is done, you will return Prudencia to her preferred place of sanctuary and you will leave her alone. Is that understood?” He nodded. “Good.” She went back to Prudencia. “If anything changes, you are always welcome in one of my homes.”

“Thank you, Goddess,” Prudencia whispered with a gentle bow of her head.

“I had it under control,” Ichabod murmured when Abbie rested her head on his shoulder.

Abbie tilted her head up enough to look up at him with soft, doe eyes. “You, a gentleman, were about to start a fight with a punk ass white boy.”

He conceded because she was right, of course. Though he wasn't entirely certain at what point one became a ‘punk ass,’ Ichabod knew Charlie indeed was one. 

After several minutes of waiting, Ichabod began to fidget restlessly. Abbie rubbed his thigh. “Why don't you see if anyone needs a drink or someone to watch their kids while they run to the bathroom?” Abbie suggested.

“Do you need a drink my dearest?” Ichabod asked. Abbie shook her head and pulled a bottle of water from her purse. There were several more bottles inside, which she handed over.

He spent the remainder of their wait scurrying around the lobby, delivering water, holding babies while mom had to pee, teaching young children how to properly challenge an opponent and duel, and of course rubbing sore ankles when needed.

At one point, whilst tending to an infant named Javon, Ichabod looked up to see Abigail watching him with a softness in her eyes. Her hands delicately splayed over the small swell of her belly. 

For a moment he saw her clad in a gown of shimmering gold and a halo-like crown upon her head, rubbing a much heavier and pronounced belly.

Ichabod blinked away the tears that stung his eyes and returned Master Javon back to his mother just in time for the nurse to call Abbie's name.

  
#  


Abbie prided herself on being able to handle anything with grace and dignity. The guy in the lobby, simple. Keeping Jenny in the dark about Ichabod being her baby daddy… it was a challenge but thankfully Jenny had already decided Ichabod was _not it_ so it was just a matter of maintaining it.

What she couldn't get used to was anyone doting on her. 

Ichabod Crane was a master of doting. 

He offered a hand to step her up onto scale for her weigh in. He offered a hand to help her step down. He opened her room door for both her and the nurse.

But Abbie drew the line at him trying to pick her up and sit her on the exam table. She swatted his hands away and hopped onto the exam table. “I'm not helpless,” she grumbled as he clasped his hands behind his back.

“I know this very well, Abigail,” Ichabod said tenderly. “I simply wished to keep your stress levels at a minimum.”

Abbie glared at him. “Then stop crowding me.” Ichabod took one long stride backwards. “Thank you.” She closed her eyes and sighed when he stepped close again, as the nurse started taking her blood pressure and temperature.

She tried to keep from snapping because she knew he was just being curious. But damn, she was really wishing she hadn't invited him along now.

She took slow, calming breaths and waited while the nurse did her thing. “Your blood pressure is a little high…” the nurse's gaze flickered to Ichabod. “I'll note this one down but I want to recheck before you leave just to make sure.”

When the nurse started asking the embarrassing questions, Abbie couldn't help but smirk at the way Ichabod suddenly took interest in an anatomy model of the female reproductive system.

The nurse softly whispered, “And five… four… three… two… and…”

The model wobbled and tilted, spilling all the plastic pieces out of the model. Ichabod frantically tried to grapple for all the parts but all of them fell to the floor, except for a plastic ovary which was in Ichabod’s hand.

Abbie snorted at the same time as the nurse.

Ichabod stood stiff as a rail, with his eyes closed. His empty hand flicked gently. 

“You're not the first to do it,” the nurse said with a hint of amusement. “And you won't be the last.”

Ichabod looked toward them, a forlorn expression on his face that was quickly replaced by relief. Abbie felt her heart in her throat when he smiled shyly and knelt down to gather the pieces.

The nurse have him a smile. “Dr Patel should be in shortly,” she beamed then showed herself out.

Abbie watched Ichabod trying to piece the model back together, his hands proving too fidgety for the task. After a moment she scooted back on the exam table, straddling it and patted the stiff cushion. “Set it right here,” she said softly.

Ichabod acted like he was going to insist he could sort it himself, but then brought it over and set it on the table. He pulled the rolling stool over and sat in front of her. Together they started on sorting the anatomical puzzle.

“Childhood or with the freemasons?” she asked gently. 

He looked up at her then back down, his cheeks flushing pink. “Childhood,” he said quietly. “Childish curiosity and a similar diagram in my father's study. Except it was not made of such durable material as this…” He sucked in a breath. “He did not take kindly to having a piece or two broken…”

Ichabod fitted the last piece--a tiny plastic foetus--into place. He took her hands in his gently trembling ones.

“How old were you?” Abbie asked.

“I had only recently turned five,” Ichabod whispered. She leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you.”

She wasn't sure if he was thanking her for listening, talking him down from a panic, or for helping fix the model. Knowing him it was all of the above.

Abbie leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He hummed softly and slipped a hand behind her neck as he returned the affection.   
They barely even pulled apart when the door to the room opened and Dr. Patel’s cheerful southern drawl chimed, “Looks like we're three for three on the fellas breaking the model. If I didn't have to use it at times I’d superglue the parts in.”

Abbie grinned and sat back to look at the tiny Pakistani woman. She adored Dr Patel. Mostly because she was one of the few adult women in Sleepy Hollow that were shorter than her.

Ichabod sat back and Dr Patel swooped up the model to place it back on the counter. “I swear, you fellas just gotta poke and prod this thing…”

Abbie watched as his brows raised with interest. He looked at her. “Your physician is a woman?” A smile spread across his face. “How delightful.”

Dr Patel blinked at him. “Oh… I didn't recognize ya outta the colonial garb, Captain Crane.” She pointed to the stool. “Can I have that please, sir. Thanks muches.”

Ichabod hopped up and stood at attention next to the exam table. Abbie couldn't help but smirk. As her and Dr Patel talked about swelling ankles, breast tenderness, food cravings, and discharges, Abbie had expected Ichabod to wander off and plug his ears. But, no, he stood right there, wide eyed and nodding as he absorbed the knowledge Dr Patel was imparting.

He asked questions when he didn't understand what constituted high amounts of sodium. 

“What happens if she does not get this… blood pressure issue under control?” Ichabod asked.

Abbie bit her bottom lip. She knew he had his own paranoia about pregnancy. 

“Best case scenario, which would probably be Abbie's case since she's perfectly healthy… bed rest and a low sodium diet,” Dr Patel beamed. “Y'all ready to see the baby?”

Abbie could see Ichabod battling with the urge to ask about the worst case scenario. His lips were trying to form the words as his fingers and hands fidgeted. But Dr Patel was busily getting the equipment setup for the next stage of the visit. 

Abbie reached over and took his hand. “Worst case, it's heavy medication and a few days extra in the hospital. I'm perfectly healthy remember?”

Ichabod’s brow furrowed as if he wasn't quite believing her and was warring with the thought of doing so anyway. “If you are not concerned then I shall not be,” he finally settled.

In truth, Abbie was moderately concerned. Mostly because she could freely recall her past lives and the times she had been pregnant in those.

As Inanna she had bore Dumuzi twin sons and, had she not been immortal, it probably would have killed her. Her three pregnancies as Persephone had been riddled with sickness. The third had been especially tumultuous. As Morrigan she had nearly died and been left mentally scarred at the thought of ever having another. 

I'm one hand she was optimistic that this one would be the easy one. On the other hand, she was worried this one might be the one to actually kill her. But, she didn't want to fathom the idea of Ichabod being left to soldier on through the apocalypse without her and balancing raising their child alone.

_He will not be alone_ , a deep but gentle and feminine voice whispered at the back of her mind. _They will not be alone. We are eternal unless you choose not to be._

Abbie rubbed her belly, thinking she felt something for a moment. But that was silly, she wasn't even that far on yet. Then again she had read that petite women could feel quickening early on…

She closed her eyes, trying to figure out which of her previous identities had just spoken to her. She startled when all she saw was glowing, gold eyes in the darkness. 

“Fall asleep there Sweetie,” Dr Patel asked with a small chuckle. 

Abbie sucked in a breath and rubbed her thighs. “Yeah…” she said with a nervous laugh. 

“Getting tired easily is normal,” Dr Patel said, looking at Ichabod pointedly. “I know this is Abbie's first, how about you?”

“It is the first that I have been made aware of their existence at this stage,” Ichabod said carefully.

Thankfully Dr Patel didn't implore further. Abbie laid back and a few minutes later she was looking at the tiny grey figure floating in a field of black. She looked over at Ichabod. His eyes were wide and he was staring at the screen slackjawed.

“And we… got a nice strong heartbeat,” Dr Patel announced. “Would y’all like to hear it.”

Abbie glanced at Ichabod, who was now trying to form words again. “Yeah. Let's hear it,” she said.

Dr Patel flipped a switch and turned a knob. Abbie felt her own heart flutter, which could also be heard over the speaker along with the steady thrum of the baby's. She fought back the threat of tears as she realized…

This was real.

She was going to be a mother.

And…

She looked back at Ichabod when one of his hands grasped hers. His other hand was fisted at his mouth. And he was biting down on his finger. His eyes were rimmed red as tears brimmed and spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh my God, you're crying,” Abbie said, surprised by the surprise in her own voice.

He fidgeted gently then grabbed her face and kissed her forehead. “Who would not do so when faced with such… when…” he sucked in a breath. “This is truly a marvel of…” he reached across the touch the screen then stepped back to pace the room and run his fingers through his hair. His eyes met hers. “I have witnessed a great many things in my life. But _this_ is truly the greatest of modern miracles I have ever seen.”

“Can I get a couple copies of a still picture?” Abbie asked, wiping tears from her own eyes.

“Sure can,” Dr Patel chimed. “You wanna record the heartbeat so you can play it back for the family?”

Abbie nodded and reached into Ichabod’s pocket when he came close enough. She pulled out both of their phones and focused in on the screen before hitting record. “This is the ultrasound and heartbeat of the baby,” Abbie said. “Papa is pacing around freaking out right now because he's excited.”

She remained quiet for a moment then ended the recording. Abbie handed Ichabod his phone. “So you can let Tish, Carol, and Melody hear it.”

The way he cradled his phone in his hands as though it held the key to one of the finest treasures known to mankind made Abbie look away and wipe at her eyes again.

Dr Patel turned off the equipment. “Okay, now Abbie… you have to work on getting that blood pressure down by the next visit or I will be putting you on light desk duty at work and bed rest.” Abbie narrowed her eyes, Dr Patel cocked a brow. “My job is to make sure you and the baby are alive and well at the end of this… goddess or no. So… blood pressure. Down. In two weeks or it's bed rest.”

About fifteen minutes later they were buckling up in Abbie's car. Ichabod had shoved a pair of wireless earbuds in his ears and was staring down at the print of the ultrasound, gently stroking the image in the middle.

She chuckled and shook her head when he pinched the bridge of his nose and took several small cleansing breaths. They were halfway to the manor when he coaxed one of her hands from the steering wheel and held it in his grasp.

“Abigail…” he said softly, his voice still tense with pent up emotion. “Thank you. Not only for today but… for allowing me the privilege of being part of everything that has led to this very moment in time.”

“Don't,” she whispered softly.

He kissed her fingertips and pressed her palm against his chest. She could feel the heavy thud of his heartbeat. “I shall strive to be best father and partner to our child as I can be.”

Abbie whipped the vehicle onto the shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. “I said… don't,” she whimpered, using her shirt to dab at her eyes.

“I apologize for being so foolishly sentimental…”

She pulled him in for a kiss that ended in him hugging her to his chest as she sobbed. Abbie sat back after a moment and composed herself. “You're not being foolishly sentimental,” she pouted. “You're being… sweet.” She paused for a second. “Dork.”

A few minutes later she pulled back onto the highway and finished the journey to the manor. Once they arrived they eased through the sunroom door. Abbie tiptoed past Granny, which was snoozing peacefully with a broad headed red nose pitbull sleeping next to her scooter. 

Ichabod knelt down next to the scooter and gave Granny a gentle shake. The old woman instantly woke, cooed softly as she took Ichabod’s face in her hands.

“There's my handsome boy,” she said softly. “I stayed up all night waiting for you.”

“I told you I was staying over at Abigail's home,” he said lightly. “Good morrow to you as well, Miss Gigi.”

Abbie peered into the sunroom to see the pitbull was wagging her entire body and licking Ichabod enthusiastically. As soon as he greeted her, Gigi sat dutifully next to Granny’s scooter, still trying to eat her body.

Granny humphed indignantly. “What have I told you about them witches, Ichabod? They ain't nothing but bad news…” She paused. “That cocky little hoe is standing behind me, isn't she?”

“Yeah I am you old cantankerous harpy,” Abbie deadpanned.

Ichabod sighed and rubbed his eyes as Granny whipped her chair around and wheeled over to Abbie, pointing her grab claw at her. Granny stopped and looked startled for a moment. “Well… if my boy turns up dead again, just know I can still hunt your ass down and do what I did to the other ones.”

Granny wheeled out of the sunroom, Gigi trotting along behind her.

“What did she do to ‘the other ones’?” Abbie ask curiously. 

Ichabod walked over and took her hand. “She hunted down everyone involved with the murder of her son and made sure they suffered.”

“Your family terrifies me,” Abbie said flatly. “At least with this side it's in a good way.”

When they reached the kitchen Carol greeted them cheerfully. Latisha was at the kitchen table helping Melody and her her friend Zabrina with their school work. 

“Carol, baby,” Granny cooed. “Do you have any of those cinnamon things left?”

“Oh I see how it is,” Abbie chuckled. “This whole family is swayed by donuts and churros.”

Granny just glared at her while Carol handed her a couple of churros. “Well you haven't proven you're good enough for my boy yet.”

“I am a _goddess_ ,” Abbie huffed.

“That don't mean shit,” Granny grumbled and wheeled over to Ichabod to give him one of her churros. “Show me you can cook or something for yourself and then we'll talk. ‘Cause my boy ain't gonna marry a girl that can't do for herself.”

“I can put my foot up your ass myself,” Abbie snapped. She cleared her throat as Carol handed her a couple of churros over the kitchen island. “Anyway… Ichabod and I have some news…”

Ichabod eased up to her side and put his arm around her waist. They shared a look. He nodded lightly and puffed himself up proudly. “Abigail is with child.”

The first to respond was Melody and Zabrina, with twin squeals of delight. Carol and Latisha chimed their on congratulations. Then Granny huffed indignantly and wheeled closer to Abbie. 

Before Abbie could object the old woman had shoved her blouse up and rested her hands on the gentle slope of her belly. Granny whispered under her breath, then eased back with a nod.

“And Ichabod’s the father,” Granny said matter-of-factly. She looked up at Abbie. “You're off the hook for now cause I know how hard it can be being an unmarried pregnant woman in these parts.” She nodded lightly. “The first born in our family line is always a boy so don't get it in your head that you're having a girl.”

She reversed and looked up at Ichabod. “Her and the baby will be safer here. So she can stay overnight anytime she likes. I'm gonna go get a nap.”

Abbie waited until Granny was at the doorway to call out, “This isn't your damn house. It's Ichabod’s.”

Granny's response was to give Abbie a rude gesture before continuing on her way, Gigi padding along behind her.

“We're going to be aunties,” Melody squealed, hugging her friend's neck. “Oh! Can we post it on the pages?”

“No,” Abbie said, shaking her head. “I don't want the wrong people finding out. It's a safety thing so please respect the decision.”

Both of the girls nodded solemnly.

“Right now, I am tired so I'm going upstairs and taking a nap,” Abbie said with a quiet sigh.

“Nap, mhmm, I'm sure you are,” Latisha quipped. “Mel, Zab, phones down until you finish your classwork.”

“If you would be so gracious to permit me to make certain you have adequate comfort,” Ichabod said, taking Abbie’s hand.

Abbie side eyed him for a moment before shoving one of her churros, in its entirety, into her mouth. She nodded and headed toward the kitchen stairs.

“Don't nap too hard ya guys,” Carol chimed. “I'm making Irish Pub Stew for dinner.”

Abbie headed up the stairs with Ichabod trailing behind her.


End file.
